


Two saviors and some hope

by SeventhSister



Series: A Mandalorian, a Marshal and some complicated feelings [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Chronic Pain, Domestic Fluff, Enthusiastic Consent, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Sexual Slavery, Past Abuse, Pining, Reader-Insert, Self-Medication, Smut, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:47:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27479047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeventhSister/pseuds/SeventhSister
Summary: You've been captured to be sold as a slave. But two men clad in beskar armors cross your path. Maybe this means there's some hope.Shameless reader-insert where Din and Cobb come to your rescue. Set after ep 1 of season 2, canon-divergent.
Relationships: Cobb Vanth/Reader, Cobb Vanth/You, Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth, Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth/Reader, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Series: A Mandalorian, a Marshal and some complicated feelings [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013346
Comments: 9
Kudos: 146





	1. Chains and Sand

**Author's Note:**

> *READ ME*  
> -> AU : after ep 1 of season 2, Din is staying a few months in Mos Pelgo, and lets Cobb Vanth wear Boba Fett armor even though Din now owns it.  
> -> TW: blood, violence, alcohol, slavery (but reader is free pretty early in the fic)  
> -> the (light) smut part is at the end of chapter 2  
> -> pronouns: neutral pronouns for reader  
> -> English is not my native language, please be kind

“Move! Faster, I might miss a client” the abhorrent creature tugging at your chains croaks. You are trying to keep up behind him as best as you can. But with the chains linking your ankles and your wrists, it isn’t an easy task. Especially since you are barefoot in the burning sand of this barren planet. The scorching heat of its two suns is just aggravating your ordeal. The blue-skinned Chiss that is your captor and you soon arrive at the destination he was so eager to reach. A small town and its market. If the previous remark had left you with very little doubt about his intentions for you, it was now even more clear that he indeed has planned on selling you. 

“Here, that’s perfect. On the ground, sit, slave.”  
His order comes with a hard tug on the chains between your wrists, and your knees fall on the compacted sand of the marketplace. You raise your head in a poor sign of defiance, looking at the slave trader. He puts his backpack down at his feet and rubs one of his shoulders. Despite his human-like figure, he is way stronger than expected. Clad in some sort of beige toga, he could easily be mistaken for a simple merchant, but you have learned the hard way he is a hunter as well. The anxiety slowly gnawing at the edge of your mind is becoming more and more hard to ignore with every second.  
You close your eyes, breathing through your nose and trying to calm yourself.  
A freaking slave. He has called you a freaking slave, and is about to sell you as one. In those forsaken parts of the galaxy, slavery is apparently still a thing and no one would come looking for you. Even if everything happened in a blur, you know the small village where you were finally living a simple life after a troubled childhood has been destroyed by the Chiss and his friends? Colleagues? Regardless of who they all were, your situation is the same. He has taken you and decided to make a quick buck by bringing you to the first market on the closest planet he could find. 

But you can’t resign yourself. Maybe if you run fast enough you could hide yourself somewhere? Find a way to destroy those chains and escape from your grim future.  
It’s now or never. You take a deep breath and you push as hard as you can on your legs, soaring, ready to run. But as soon as you're up, you barely have taken your first step, that the Chiss grabs your upper arm and yanks you towards him. His grip is cruel and his fingers dig deep in your skin, likely to leave nasty bruises there. You let out a scream, but the air is pushed out of your lungs when he kicks you in the back of your knee, your legs buckling beneath you. You fall again on the ground and you try to soften your landing with your hands, but the chains prevent you from really succeeding. 

“Pathetic.” you hear him mutter, slightly shaking his head.  
You want to disappear. You’re huddled in the sand, your knees and arms hurting, your heart pounding in your ears. You don’t want to raise your eyes and meet his again. Around you, the market is bustling with life, people happily chatting and loudly bargaining cheap items. Though it looks like your little scene has attracted a few surprised glances and hushed conversations.  
You close your eyes again, wincing from the waves of pain creeping from most of your body. You’re taken out of your suffering-induced trance when you hear heavy footsteps coming close to you and the Chiss greeting someone with his sketchy smooth voice.  
“Hello gentlemen, do you need a servant? I’m sure this one will be perfect for your…”  
He hasn’t the time to finish his sentence, because the tallest of the two armored men standing in front of you aims his blaster on the chest of the Chiss without any warning.  
“What are you doing here, slaver scum?”  
“I.. what do you…” the Chiss stutters. 

“There are only free people in this town, and this is gonna stay that way as long as I’m the Marshal here. So you’re going to release this person and get away from this place as quick as you can. And I’m not gonna ask you twice.”

Your mind is slowly processing what’s happening, and you watch more closely at your two saviors. They’re both clad in beskar armor, one shiny, one painted in red and green, the traditional helmets of the Mandalorians safely hiding their faces. You’ve heard of them of course, the intriguing tribe is well known where you used to live. And it is also well known it is a bad idea to mess with them. 

There is a moment of tension. The Chiss seems to be gauging if he can win a fight against the two Mandalorians, or if there is any way he can turn the situation to his advantage. The smaller warrior, the one with the shiny armor, moves a hand on his blaster and slightly shifts in his position, making clear he’s not afraid to shoot if necessary. Anger crosses the face of the blue-skinned man and he pinches his lips in a disgusted pout before speaking.  
“Alright, no need to be so menacing. I’ll leave, but I can’t let my property here, they’ll come with me.” He collects his bag and pretends to be leaving, tugging on your chains for you to get up.  
“I think you don’t understand”, the smaller Mandalorian finally speaks for the first time, “they’re not your property, and they will stay here.”. He’s very calm but determined and the modulator filtering his voice gives an even more terrifying tone to the veiled threat. His blaster is now in his hand, casually aiming to the Chiss. 

With two blasters now facing him, your captor has very little choice. He lets out a nervous sight and reaches inside his pocket to find the magnetic key to your chains. He reluctantly presses it against your ankles and then your wrists, freeing you from the vicious bite of the metal around your limbs. The discarded shackles tumble in the sand with a soft clatter.  
Free. You’re free. 

“You don’t know who you’re insulting Mandalorians…” you heard him muttering under his breath before quickly leaving the marketplace, under the scrutinizing looks of the nearby crowd. You’re still in shock of what just happened. The world is becoming a blur around you, the ambient noise turning into a high pitch sound in your ears, you feel like you’re gonna lose your footing. 

“Hey… can you hear me? you ok?” a gentle touch on your shoulder and two brown eyes with a kind look prevent you from totally fainting, bringing you back to reality. The taller Mandalorian has removed his helmet and is watching you. A concerned smile crossing his face. The information makes your brain glitch. Mandalorians are not supposed to remove their helmet, ever.. But you don’t have the time to dwell on this puzzling news, because the second warrior reminds you of a more pressing issue:  
“Did he plant a chip? In your neck? Or your back maybe? Do you remember?”  
“Yes…yes, in the middle of my back I think.”  
“Shit.”

\--------

The table in the center of the modest living room is swiped free of the few bowls and trinkets placed there. The Mandalorian is carefully lying you on it, instructing you to turn on your belly. He loses no time, tearing the thin fabric of your tunic to expose your back. The Marshal comes back from another room, hurrying, with a medkit in his hands.  
“Din! I think there’s a scalpel vibroblade in here, but I couldn’t find any anesthetic.”  
The helmeted warrior, Din, doesn’t lose his calm and pulls out the scalpel from the kit.

“I’m sorry, but we must remove it now, before this son-of-a-Kath-hound dares to make it explode.” he says, his helmet turned toward you.

You hear the Marshal searching in the kitchen for something, frantically opening cabinet doors.  
“Here, you can bite on this.” a clean cloth is finally shoved into your hands and you bring it to your mouth, sinking your teeth in the fabric and steeling yourself for what’s to come. The gloved hand of the Mandalorian is feeling each bone of your spine, looking for the exact location of the chip. He’s fast, methodical, like he’s done this before. His hand suddenly stops a couple inches below your neck.  
“Found it. It’s gonna hurt. You can scream if it helps.”  
He turns to the other man “It’s best if you hold them still. Safer this way.”  
One powerful hand grabs your neck, gentle but firm, while another one presses on the small of your back, making sure you won’t move too much and hurt yourself. The Marshal has removed his gloves, and the feeling of its warm callused hands against your exposed skin is somehow weirdly comforting.  
Your fingers clench hard on the table’s edge when the blade sinks into your flesh, you squeeze your eyes shut, letting out a growl through your gritted teeth around the cloth.  
The pain is radiating in all your back, you want to move, to escape the awful sensation although you know it’s for your own good. You can feel the droplets of blood trickling down your sides, ending on the table, forming little puddles soon staining the front of your tunic.  
The feeling of the blade moving so close to your spine makes your head spin and when you open your eyes, blacks spots are filling your vision. You let go of the edge of the table, your fingers going numb.  
“I think they’re gonna faint.” the Marshal warns Din.  
“I’m almost done...”  
A metallic clatter can be heard as the Mandalorian lets the chip fall inside a cup.  
“Just need to close the wound now. You’re good.”  
You’re doing your best to stay awake, removing the cloth from your mouth with a feeble hand to try and take some deep breaths.  
The process of closing the deep cut in your back is nowhere near pleasant, but at least the menace of the chip blowing up your spine is gone.  
“It’s done. I just need to apply some bacta.”  
“No” your voice is wrecked, the tone slightly desperate. “No bacta. I want the scar to stay.”  
“It’s your call.” Din simply states.

The hands against your back are lifted and the Marshal reappears in your visual field. He fetches a bottle and a cup, and when the Mandalorian finally gives you the permission to sit up, he offers you a glass of an unknown blue liquid.  
“For the pain.” he says with a smile.  
It smells funny but you gulp the thing down, and while it burns your throat a little, its heat is welcome. You feel your muscles relax a bit thanks to the alcohol.  
“Thank you.”  
His brows furrow while he looks at you. You must look like a mess. Your tunic ripped open in the back, stained with your own blood, your skin coated in sand and sweat, your short hair messier than ever.  
“I’ll try to find you new clothes.”  
Behind you, the Mandalorian is trying to clean the blade and the mess you all made.  
You feel very self-conscious all of a sudden, realizing you’re half naked, alone on a planet you don't know, with two strangers, no money and no weapon, not even a proper garment on your back. You wrap your arms around you, making sure the torn fabric doesn’t expose you more than it does. But the move makes you wince when you unwittingly touch the bruises left by the Chiss on your upper arms. The Marshal frowns even more.  
“Is there a refresher I can use?” you ask tentatively.  
“Yeah sure” he seems a bit surprised by your request “Over here, the sonic works and there might even be some water left.” he answers nonetheless, while gesturing toward the small corridor at the other side of the room. 

You don’t wait for any more explanation, jump from the table, and almost run to the refresher, locking the door behind you.  
A thousand thoughts are spiralling inside your head. You let the water run and step inside the shower, trying to wash away the dirt, the pain and the anguish.


	2. Nightmares and messy feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader settles into their new life, at Din and Cobb's sides. Some messy feelings ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is some (light) smut at the end of this chapter

Days have passed since your encounter with Din and Cobb (as you learned their names were). One true Mandalorian, the other not so much. But both are men of honor - or at least they seem to be. Truth be said, you don’t care that much about honor, as long as they’re nice to you. Cobb is letting you live in his home, and you have a small room all to yourself. You don’t see him a lot since he’s always somewhere else taking care of some sort of problem or quarrel. He’s not a bad roommate and he doesn't ask a lot from you. And Din is living in his ship he brought back from Mos Eisley. Well you’ve learned pretty quickly that sometimes Din is also some kind of roommate for Cobb, in the sense that they literally share the same bedroom. They’re not very open about their relationship but they don’t try to hide it at all costs either, and you’re grateful for the trust they put into you. 

It’s quite fascinating to see them together. Cobb, tall and bold, a mischievous smile always plastered on his face, his silver hair and beard highlighting a strong jaw, high cheekbones and kind dark eyes. Din is more of the introvert type, smaller, definitely more muscular, his helmet always on, although you can easily tell when there is a smile or a worry in his voice. You’ve seen them fight together against some outlaws once or twice, and you had been mesmerized by their dynamic and synchronicity. You don’t know much about them, and they don’t ask much about you, and it’s fine this way for each of you three. The only thing still bugging your mind is the reason why they chose to help you, but the small green alien baby the Mandalorian is fostering indicates an overprotective instinct you’re glad to be benefiting from. And Cobb is visibly on the same track, even more so, demonstrating a contained anger each time you mention past abuse, regularly scolding himself for having let the Chiss leave alive. 

Actually you’re glad to stay at their sides and to receive their attention. They’ve been careful around you, especially the first couple days, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or to scare you. As time passed, they both showed more openly their attachment to you and you welcomed their friendliness. But lately, you’ve caught yourself wanting more, waiting impatiently for Cobb’s return or for Din’s visit, a weird feeling coiling into your chest and your belly when you caught a glimpse of Din’s skin between his helmet and his scarf, a sudden blush on your cheeks when you run into Cobb getting out of the fresher, wearing just pants, hair still damp and shimmering in the soft light of the morning. Despite your best efforts to lie to yourself, it’s pretty clear now that you’re falling for them, both of them.

It’s twisted, you’re well aware, and sometimes you’re wondering which part of your fucked up past is to blame for this. But torturing yourself searching for answers doesn’t make the crave for their attention and touch go away, on the contrary.

While you’re getting more and more settled into your new life, the scars of the previous ones are still present. Nightmares. The ghosts of past wounds. You try your best to hide it from Din and Cobb, you don’t want to bother them with your traumas, when they already have their very own ones to deal with.

One night, the ghost pain of the removal of the chip comes back. You suspect in saving your life, Din had unfortunately touched a few nerves. It hurts all along your spine, up into your skull, keeps you wide awake despite your tiredness. You roll into your bed, unable to sleep, tears of exhaustion forming in the corner of your eyes. You finally get up, looking for the new pain-killer you know Cobb keeps in the unit next to his bed. After your little improvised surgery on his kitchen table, he had felt the need to purchase some, just in case. He’s not home yet, despite the late hour, but you’re not worried. Not unusual for him to have a weird schedule. You find what you’re looking for, small greenish beads safely stored in a glass jar. You swallow two of them, fighting against the waves of pain each of your movement is sending into your body. With just a few seconds, the medication kicks in, a warm feeling settling inside of your muscles, easing your agony away. You feel your mind drifting pleasantly, your eyelids heavy. You barely have the time to take a few steps back and fall on Cobb’s bed before you blank out. 

You wake up in a gasp, sitting up immediately, all your senses on the alert. There is someone in the room.  
“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” you can guess Cobb’s silhouette in the door frame. He’s just wearing the light pants and tunic he usually sleeps in.  
“I’m gonna go sleep in the living room.” he adds with a soft voice.  
It’s still dark outside, you weren’t out for very long, but visibly long enough for him to come back and find you in his bed.  
“Sorry.” You don’t know how to explain why you ended here, you’re just relieved to see he’s not upset with you. “You don’t need... I… Can I…” you stutters, having trouble to find what you really want to ask.  
“You can finish your night here, no big deal.” he sounds tired but caring.  
“Stay with me. I mean, if you want to”. You answer without thinking about the consequences, not knowing if it’s the uninhibiting effect of the drug or something else.  
You see his shoulders rise just a little, he’s surprised although he doesn’t say anything, and just climbs onto the bed as you shift to make room for him. You’re glad he stays silent, the situation being awkward enough as it is.  
The mattress is wide enough for two persons, but after a few moments, you press yourself against his body in your half-sleep, subconsciously searching for his warmth. When his arm gently wraps over you, he asks in a whisper if it's ok, and when you clutch his hand tighter against your chest, he takes that as a yes. You fall in a deep restful sleep, the best you had in a long time. 

It becomes a little habit, everytime you feel the pain in your back or when nightmares wake you up in the middle of the night. Din knows about it obviously. He’s not angry at you, or Cobb. He understands, and you even recon he’s becoming more and more protective around you. Days turn into weeks, and while it’s nice to sleep in Cobb’s arms and to get renewed attention from Din, it doesn’t really help with your complicated feelings. 

One afternoon, you’re heading back home early, and as you enter the living room, noises coming from Cobb’s bedroom make your heart miss a beat. Soft moans, deep voices whispering dirty words and the sound of flesh on flesh. You’re clearly not supposed to be here at this time of day, not supposed to witness whatever is going on. A hand on your mouth, you retreat to your room as quietly as possible, close the door shut and try to calm your erratic breathing. You spend the rest of the day locked up, too embarrassed to dare going out and to risk bumping into them. You don’t really know why, it’s not like it’s a dangerous secret that they’re fucking each other. You guess it has more to do with your own guilty desires than with them. 

The very next day, you’re all enjoying a drinking party at the local cantina. The spotchka is burning your inside delightfully, Cobb is telling funny stories from his past and the small crowd gathered around your booth is laughing, unbridled. It’s hard to tell if Din is enjoying himself since he can’t drink in public but you suspect he has taken his share of the blue alcohol before coming here. His gloved hand is casually resting on Cobb’s thigh under the table top, an unusual demonstration of affection.  
The night is well advanced when the three of you leave the cantina. You’re expecting them to go straight to Din’s ship but they follow you into Cobb’s home, exchanging teasing jokes and clever quips. As you make your way toward your own room, Cobb catches your wrist.  
“Stay with us. I mean, if you want to.” he offers, using your own words from the other night, smiling without malice.  
Your eyes dart to Din, silently asking for his consent and he nods slowly. 

You all land on Cobb’s bed, and before you dare ask about the helmet situation, Din makes sure the blinds on the windows are perfectly shut, and switches off the light. The soft clatter of beskar against the floor makes it clear he has removed his helmet, his face impossible to see in the complete darkness of the room. You’re in awe of the trust he puts into you. You could easily mess with him and try some tricks to see how he looks, even though you have no intention to do so. You’re too tired to really think further about it, and you decide to just embrace the gentleness of the moment, cuddling up against Cobb like you’re used to. Except this time you can feel Din’s arm wrapped around the Marshal’s body and it makes your heart flutter with a joy you wouldn’t have dared to dream of. 

You’re awakened by Cobb shifting against you in his sleep. You feel well rested and despite the lack of light thanks to the thick blinds, you conclude it’s probably late in the morning. The body against your back moves again, and you feel Cobb’s breath against your shaved nape.  
“Good morning sunshine” he says before planting a kiss there. Your breath hitches in your throat.  
“You ok?” he whispers, concerned.  
“Yeah, just… Can you... do that again?”  
He chuckles and his lips find your neck again. Taking his time, leaving small kisses up to your cheek. You feel a familiar heat building really quickly between your legs. His hands are on your waist, feeling good and warm on the exposed skin between your shirt and your shorts.  
You’re closing your eyes, savoring the sensation when Cobb unexpectedly lets out a laugh.  
“Well, hello Din…”  
“What? I thought I could join.” Din mutters between two kisses on Cobb’s neck.  
Before you can say anything, you find yourself between them, night clothes soon discarded after you answer positively when they ask you if this is fine, muscular bodies pressed against you from both sides. They kiss every inch of your skin and and at some point, Din grabs your hand and places it gently on his face, giving you permission to trace his features in the dark. You feel a chiseled jawline and a two-day stubble, soft lips and a strong nose, small wrinkles at the corner of his eyes forming there when he smiles. You keep on touching his forehead, up until you find the soft curls of his hair. You guess he must be a few years older than you, surely a bit younger than Cobb. But it doesn’t really matter, and the question disappears when you feel his lips on yours. 

You relinquish yourself to the mind-blowing feeling. Even your wildest fantasies weren’t this good. You lose track of how many times you come undone under Din’s skilled fingers and Cobb’s hungry mouth. And when Din finally sinks into you and Cobb sinks into him, your heart misses a few more beats, your bodies moving in perfect sync, making you go over the edge one more time. 

It must be late in the day, because you start to be really thirsty.  
“I’ll go fetch some water” Cobb offers, and when he’s back from the kitchen with the cups, you and him respectfully turn your back to Din to let him drink before he has the chance to put his helmet back on. 

When it’s your turn to head for the refresher, you let the water run and step inside the shower, just like you did for the first time a few weeks ago.  
There is a difference though. Today, there sure is some dirt to wash away, but the pain and the anguish, they are already gone.


End file.
